


Worth a Miracle

by alderations



Series: Peapod McHanzo Week [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Autistic Hanzo Shimada, Body Worship, Brotherly Bonding, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Hotel Sex, M/M, Peapod McHanzo Week, Praise Kink, Smut, Strap-Ons, Trans Character, Trans Hanzo Shimada, Trans Jesse McCree, background genyatta - Freeform, double dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 01:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13307241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderations/pseuds/alderations
Summary: Jesse has a way of getting Hanzo worked up with the slightest of touches, words, looks alone. This is particularly irritating on double dates with his brother, and said brother's mischievous omnic boyfriend.At least they can go back to the hotel and have their way with one another.





	Worth a Miracle

Hanzo is, despite many facets of his personality, not inclined toward regret. Other than killing his brother, of course, he regrets very few choices in his life, and making this a double date is one of them.

It wouldn’t be a problem if Jesse were behaving appropriately, but his fiancé’s hand hasn’t left the small of his back since they sat down, and the thumb rubbing firm circles into his skin, right under the edge of his shirt, is making it hard to form sentences. And Genji knows, judging by the way he’s grilling Hanzo about mundane topics for no clear reason. One hand shouldn’t be enough to have Hanzo so worked up; it’s not like Jesse is being obscene, by any means, and yet Hanzo is struggling to keep from leaning over Jesse’s lap like a luxuriating cat. He doesn’t even want to imagine the judgment going through Zenyatta’s mind, but at least the omnic’s humor isn’t so obvious.

 

“So, Jesse, are you two planning to move out of Spain after you’re married, or will you stick around?” asks Genji, his smile as wide as his scarred cheeks will allow. At least he’s not looking at Hanzo anymore. He expected to be grilled about every aspect of their engagement, and he was prepared for that, but Genji always had a way of outdoing himself.

 

Jesse tangles his fingers in the hem of Hanzo’s shirt and— _ fuck  _ him—scrapes his nails down the thin trail of hair tapering toward Hanzo’s butt. “Depends on safety. We ain’t got time to be fightin’ off bounty hunters once we’re really settled in together.”

 

That’s true. Hanzo misses Hanamura like it’s a part of his body, but he will never be safe there, whether the Shimadas are in power or not. But he’d rather get away from Overwatch, from a life of fighting for his life at every moment, and if they could somehow take care of Jesse’s bounty he thinks they’d do well back in the Southwest. Like real cowboys, perhaps.

 

Genji tilts his head to one side and, smooth as ever, takes Zenyatta’s hand. “You could always visit the Shambali. It might be a bit cold for you, Jess, but they are truly devoted to accepting and protecting everyone.”

 

“I don’t think the monk lifestyle is, ah, up our alley,” rumbles Jesse, and Hanzo blushes cherry-pink.

 

To Hanzo’s surprise, Zenyatta is the one who chuckles at that. “I believe you may have some misconceptions about the hypothetical celibacy of my family. Certainly you know that no such rules apply to Genji and I?”

 

“Please stop,” Hanzo interjects.

 

That only fans the flame of Genji’s mischief. “Oh, Hanzo, you don’t like hearing about your brother’s sex life?” He shovels another piece of sushi into his mouth as if setting himself up for—oh,  _ god, _ Hanzo will never live this down. “Surely Jesse would love to hear about that time you—”

 

“Stop, Genji.”

 

“Oh, you think I  _ wanted  _ to know that you have a—”

 

“Shut your mouth while you chew,  _ otouto.” _

 

“C’mon, honeybun, let him talk,” Jesse cuts in. This is where Hanzo will die. At least, he figures, he’ll die with Jesse trying to fondle his… tailbone.

 

Genji has the sort of look on his face that he used to get when he was a toddler and Hanzo would sneak him the expensive candies that their father saved for important guests. “So Hanzo used to seduce, like, every hot young man who set foot in the Shimada castle, right?”   
  


“Of course,” laughs Jesse.

 

“Most of the time I never found out about it until our visitors would act all shy and giggly around him the next day, but this  _ one  _ time—you’d think I would have known better than to barge into Hanzo’s room at random, but what can I say? That’s what brothers are for—this one time I decided that I desperately needed to talk to Hanzo, and that’s how I walked in on the CFO of the leading Korean hoverbike manufacturer naked and arranged like a sushi platter.”

 

The hand on Hanzo’s back has gone completely still, and he is prepared for death. He keeps very few secrets from Jesse, but his brother’s twenty-three-year-old omnic boyfriend absolutely does  _ not  _ need to know about all the ways that Hanzo misused sushi in his youth. However, he’s learned to read Zenyatta well enough by now to know that the omnic is barely fighting down laughter. “Why have you never told me this story, Genji?” he asks, lifting his free hand as if to cover his giggles.

 

“Why have  _ you  _ never told  _ me  _ this story,  _ Hanzo?”  _ Jesse practically squeals.

 

Hanzo takes a deep breath, wills himself to stay calm, and answers. “I learned my lesson about bringing… sticky things into the bedroom.”

 

Genji and Zenyatta are both openly laughing at this point, while Jesse faceplants in Hanzo’s shoulder as if  _ he  _ is the one being ridiculed. “I think we can agree on that point, sugar,” murmurs Jesse, and Hanzo is lost all over again at the feeling of Jesse’s breath warm against his ear.

 

Despite his embarrassment, Hanzo survives the rest of dinner, including squabbling with his brother over the check and then sulking in the parking lot as Genji, triumphant, pays for the “soon-to-be-newlyweds.” Zenyatta consoles him with that soft head-tilt that somehow works wonders. Then, on the way to the hotel, Jesse tells Hanzo every awkward sex story he’s ever accumulated, and he is loath to admit that he feels better knowing that his fiancé is almost as ridiculous as him in that regard. From the look on the taxi driver’s face, the man knows more English than he originally let on.

 

And Hanzo will never tell Jesse about the time he got a concussion from sub-par  _ shibari. _

 

The hotel room, rented graciously by Winston so they wouldn’t have to drive all the way home after visiting with the team, is remarkably comfortable for Overwatch’s tight budget. Jesse makes sure that everything is secure and as they left it, while Hanzo yanks the covers back from the bed and rearranges the pillows the way Jesse likes—he has no intention of loitering around when he could be smothering his fiancé with attention as an apology for his nosy little brother.

 

“I know we all blew it off as a joke,” Jesse starts, rolling onto the bed and interrupting Hanzo before he can get too invested in aligning the pillows perfectly. “Are you alright? I wasn’t sure if I shoulda just told Genji to fuck off.”

 

Hanzo answers him with a tiny smile, already fighting his way out of his shirt. “Genji has been embarrassing me since he was born; I am well-equipped to handle it.”

 

“You an’ me both,” says Jesse. His hands move like they’re separate entities from the rest of him, one reaching around to pull Hanzo closer while the other trails languidly down his belly. “Y’know, I figure we’ve changed a good bit since we left Overwatch.”

 

“If you are referring to my figure, Jesse, that is your own fault. You have no reason to make pancakes every single day of the week.”

 

Jesse snorts. “Yeah, I do, ‘cause they make you happy. But I was talkin’ about myself, mostly. When we started dating, I never would’ve been able to hear some story about your, uh, past  _ experiences  _ without gettin’ all jealous.”

 

Hands slowing, Hanzo lets his pants slip to the floor and looks up to meet Jesse’s eyes. “Over me? Jesse, it… well. Zenyatta would say that I was coping poorly with the unfair expectations of the clan, or something.” After he finishes with his own clothing, Hanzo slides seamlessly onto the bed and straddles Jesse while he unbuttons the cowboy’s shirt.

  
“Please don’t imitate your brother’s boyfriend while you’re undressin’ me, sweet pea.” Jesse grins up at him as Hanzo fails to hold in a snicker. “In all seriousness, well. I kinda… I had some issues with that, for a real long time. Firs’ boyfriend I ever had—some sleazy Deadlock fucker—cheated on me. Several times. An’ I never caught on until he dumped me, so I always got real overprotective after that.”

 

“I have never noticed,” murmurs Hanzo, pushing the flannel off Jesse’s shoulders and then going after his undershirt.

 

Jesse grimaces a bit, though the discomfort fades from his face when Hanzo combs his fingers enthusiastically through Jesse’s chest hair. “I got real good at hidin’ it. I knew it wasn’t fair to my partners, y’know? And by the time I met you I’d worked through it, for the most part, but when I realized—when I figured out that I really loved you, it kinda hit me again. But you’re… you’ve always just  _ understood,  _ Hanzo. Eventually I just knew that I’d be safe with you.”

 

They both pause for a long moment, Hanzo sitting on Jesse’s hips while Jesse seeks out his hands so that they can tangle their fingers together and hold on tight. Hanzo wants to say that he’s been there, too, but the words won’t come out of his throat, and he’s so distracted by the way Jesse’s lips press warm against the back of his hands, one at a time. He realizes that it doesn’t matter. Both of them went through all kinds of hell with past partners, past lives, and every step brought them to this point, where they’re in love.

 

It’s exactly where Hanzo wants to be.

 

“You are stronger than you know,” he tells Jesse as he lifts up to wiggle the jeans off of his overdressed fiancé with one hand. Jesse is still holding the other, and now spinning Hanzo’s engagement ring rather than kissing it—he’s still far too proud of himself for the idea of the ring in the first place. “Apparently, strong enough to keep your damned jeans on with the force of your beautiful thighs alone. Help me out?”

 

Jesse grins up at him with a wiggle of his eyebrows that’s classifiable as indecent, but he helps Hanzo strip off his pants and then draws him down for a lingering kiss. “Come up here?” he mumbles into Hanzo’s lips.

 

And, well, that’s never a bad idea. Jesse looks downright starved as he reaches for Hanzo’s hips and settles him into place over his mouth; Hanzo leans forward to brace his hands on the wall, since he always loses his balance when Jesse eats him out. The first touch of warm lips against his groin makes him whimper, which only stokes the smug glimmer in Jesse’s eyes, and Hanzo grasps his hair in one hand to keep him in check.

 

He feels Jesse moan when he pulls on his hair, and then his lips part just enough to mouth at Hanzo’s quickly-swelling cock. The memory of Jesse’s hand barely dipping under his shirt at dinner returns, and Hanzo realizes how worked up he is already—his crotch slides easily over Jesse’s slick beard as he starts to grind down against his mouth. Jesse takes it in stride, tonguing the tip of Hanzo’s cock and clutching at his hips, stroking over pink stretch marks and sparse black hair. His mouth squeezes at Hanzo’s length exactly as he likes, sucking harder and harder until the arm holding Hanzo up is visibly shaking. The desperate sounds spilling from Hanzo’s throat get higher, almost whiny, until Jesse just barely scrapes his teeth across the head of Hanzo’s cock like some sort of orgasmic magic trick. Hanzo barely bites down a scream when he comes. His whole body is shaking, his fingers and toes tingling, and Jesse’s tongue licks long stripes from his hole up to his dick as he rides it out and sobs into his clenched fist.

 

As soon as he regains basic motor skills, Hanzo pushes Jesse’s head back against the pillow and then slides off, landing with one leg awkwardly curled under himself on the mattress. “Y’doin’ okay there?” Jesse asks, genuine despite his laughter.

  
_ “Too  _ okay. You are going to incapacitate me one of these days.” Hanzo is already digging around for the bag that they left in the side table by the time Jesse sits up and moves to rub his shivering thighs. “Strap-on?”

 

He can’t see Jesse’s grin from here, but it’s obvious in his voice. “Yessirree.”

 

Hanzo has used the contraption enough times by now that it takes only seconds to have it on, and a few more to lube the ample silicone cock. They have another, smaller dildo that Hanzo prefers for himself, but Jesse is a man with… ambitions. Specifically, eight-inch ones. “Lie down again, you handsy cowboy.”

 

Raising his hands in surrender, Jesse flops onto the bed while Hanzo shuffles the pillow under his butt. “Guilty as charged.”

 

“Are you comfortable?” Hanzo asks. He hooks one of Jesse’s legs in his elbow and uses the other to smear the gathering wetness from Jesse’s hole all the way up to his cock. Then, maintaining eye contact, he presses two fingers into his fiancé and smirks. “Relaxed, clearly.”

 

“Honey,” pants Jesse, “y’know how excited I get when I have the pleasure of you sittin’ on my face.”

 

“Hmm.” His free fingers get in the way as Hanzo rubs at Jesse’s front wall, slow and languid.

 

Jesse’s eyes flutter shut, then fly open again at the third finger. Dropping Jesse’s leg, Hanzo moves his free hand to trace the decades-old scars under Jesse’s chest, then leans forward to suck wet kisses into his belly button and down his happy trail. “Fuck, sweet thing, I’m good,  _ please  _ fuck me?”

 

“Only once you remember how beautiful you are, beloved.”

 

Even as Jesse groans and throws his head back, Hanzo pulls his fingers out and wipes them clean on a tissue. He’ll tip the hotel staff well, certainly, but he knows that getting lube out of a quilt is a pain in the ass. Then he scoots closer to Jesse until the tops of his prostheses are pressed flush against his ass. By instinct alone, Jesse’s legs fall even farther apart, and Hanzo grasps the backs of his thighs and pushes them up until Jesse’s knees hit the pillow on either side of his head. Already, Jesse’s face is hazy with pleasure—his cowboy loves being manhandled. From this angle, it’s easy to slide the strap-on in with one hand gripping the base, while the other holds Jesse’s legs down.

 

When Hanzo bottoms out, Jesse moans like he’s been punched in the face. “Still alright?” Hanzo prompts, stroking Jesse’s reddened cock. He gets only an emphatic nod in return.

 

Hanzo fucks him gently but deeply, staring down into his eyes as Jesse’s moans grow few and far between. “You look so gorgeous like this,” he whispers. “Filled with cock, fucked out of your mind. And  _ so  _ beautiful. I could watch you come undone for days, Jesse, and I’d only love you more with every second.”

 

“Hanzo, Hanzo,  _ please—” _

 

“Yes? I’ll do whatever you want, Jesse. I am entirely yours.”

 

Jesse screws his eyes shut, cries out, looks up at Hanzo again. “I need—t-touch my cock, please, I need to—to come— _ please  _ let me come…”

 

Hanzo nearly scrambles to comply. With one hand pressed flat on Jesse’s chest, holding himself up, Hanzo rubs his palm over Jesse’s slick crotch and then grinds the heel of it, just softly enough not to hurt, against Jesse’s dick. It takes another minute of his hips snapping into Jesse and his hand rubbing over his cock before Jesse’s hole starts to spasm and twitch around the dildo. Hanzo looks up, eager to see the irresistable look on Jesse’s face, and—for once—finds the cowboy staring right back into his eyes as he cries out, jaw working senselessly, and trembles through an ecstatic orgasm. He can see the way Jesse’s eyes unfocus, tearing up at the corners, and then settle on him again. Hanzo has never been so shaken to his core by arousal alone.

 

Slowly, Jesse’s moans turn to whimpers and go quiet, and Hanzo goes to pull out until he’s stopped with a hand around his shoulder. “Kiss me? Please?”

 

It’s an irresistable request. Hanzo lavishes praise in between kisses, telling Jesse how perfect he looks when he comes, how good his hands feel all over Hanzo’s body. He doesn’t stop until he moves to kiss Jesse’s cheek and feels the skin under his lips, damp and sticky. “What’s wrong?” he asks, stroking Jesse’s forehead as he gently untangles their limbs.

 

Jesse sighs against his mouth. “I jus’ never thought I’d have someone like you, Han. Feels like a miracle on days like this.”

 

Their eyes meet for a moment, which stretches on as Hanzo fights the lump in his throat. “You are worth a miracle.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ah Yes. Finally I Have Cleansed My Palette With Smut!
> 
> I've started to get a lil burnt out and out of ideas, so I was like "fuck it Let Them Do Sex." ft. writing every day is hard, i hope y'all all like genyatta, there's gonna be more of it tomorrow.
> 
> (this felt relatively good to write as far as smut goes so I hope it is Pleasing to you, my beloved audience!! thank you ONCE AGAIN for the lovely sweet comments this week, and keeping me going!!!)


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